Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Same Place- Different Pajamas (Green Plaid)

It's snowing.  The street has been plowed and a huge pile of wet snow has been deposited at the bottom of the driveway (which I need to shovel before I can go anywhere).  The dog is snoring.  I have called work to say I will be late (don't really want to go), eaten breakfast, sorted recipe cards in my recipe box (found the pumpkin cheesecake recipe), had two cups of coffee (decaf), forgot to weigh myself this morning, noticed I only have two days to get the Gingerbread House ready to go to work with G.  A typical morning.  In the winter.  And it's not winter yet.

I should have photographed the list of "things done" that I made on Monday.  Twenty things.  I actually do more stuff than I thought I did, in a day.  I usually think I have done nothing.

Yesterday began, at work, with a customer ordering a "celebration of life" potted Peace lily for a young woman who had died much too soon, unexpectedly.  Someone I knew.  Someone who had cut my hair and painted my nails for years.  I was professional while I took the order over the phone and then I cried. I had known, but didn't believe it was true.  It was true.  And it was heartbreaking.  She had been in tremendous pain for one or two years now.  Her back.  G and I saw her only a few weeks ago.  We stopped to say hello. She reached out to me.  I squeezed her hand.  I would have hugged her, but was afraid that would be painful--she was in pain, sitting there having supper with her parents.  I hadn't seen her in a long time. But I am thankful for that last moment with her.

So, something very sad to start the day.  And then, as I was serving G his supper, the phone rang and a dear friend on the West Coast called, instead of sending an email, and we talked for a good long time.  It was like we had never stopped talking (but we had grown apart when I stopped traveling to see her).  So, the day ended with a good thing.  The Yin and Yang of life at 65.  Sometimes more Yin.  Less Yang.  That happens as we grown older.  More sad things happening.

I missed my friend in Georgia even more after that phone call.   I missed her this morning as I sorted  recipes and found so many from meals at her house.  Thirty nine years of intertwined lives.

Anyway.  I think I will shovel.  Bake the pumpkin cheesecake.  Work on the Gingerbread House.  I won't worry about work--no one will be driving around town in this mess.

1 comment:

Diane N said...

I'm so sorry for your loss and the sadness that it brings. I know how you feel. I mentioned to my husband as I was getting the Christmas card list ready that in the last three years we have lost thirty-two friends and relatives.

I've noticed as I grow older that there are more and more losses and sorrow along with them. The joys are more fleeting but I savor them much more than I did when I was younger.

I send you a hug, dear lady.